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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694177">The Battle of Pennsylvania</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeStillMySlashyHeart/pseuds/BeStillMySlashyHeart'>BeStillMySlashyHeart</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Patrick Scott [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Football, M/M, The American Version</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 02:55:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,285</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27694177</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeStillMySlashyHeart/pseuds/BeStillMySlashyHeart</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The one where Michael is a football fan and everyone except for Alex is confused. (Alex is just amused)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Guerin/Alex Manes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Patrick Scott [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1417255</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>139</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. vs Ravens (Maria and Isobel are Confused)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/christchex/gifts">christchex</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so far Patrick has not actually made an appearance but he gets named dropped and the whole "Michael is an Eagles fan" thing comes from the Patrick Scott verse so I'm including it but again...no actual Patrick</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>There was a familiar form slumped over the end of the bar. Maria eyed it then shot a quizzical look at the woman next to it. Isobel caught her eye and shrugged. “It’s Sunday,” she offered.</p><p>“Ah,” Maria replied softly. For most of the past six weeks, every Sunday ended up with a miserable Guerin slumped over her bar, muttering under his breath about something. Neither she nor Isobel had been able to figure out what it was.</p><p>Maria opened a bottle of her cheapest beer and tapped it against Guerins arm. He lifted his head just enough to give her the most miserable puppy eyes she’d ever seen. She wanted to ask if he was okay but he clearly wasn’t and she wasn’t sure she was still a shoulder for him to lean on. So she just placed the bottle in front of him and patted his arm gently before giving him some space. He looked miserable enough that even Isobel wasn’t pushing.</p><p>The two sat there for a while, Michael draining his beer and muttering at Isobel while she looked very confused. When Michael left to go to the bathroom Maria went over to Isobel. “Okay. What is the deal?”</p><p>Isobel shrugged helplessly. “I honestly don’t know. He kept saying something about it being close? And that fucker Jackson? And something about doing better next week?”</p><p>Maria blinked. “Is he seeing someone?”</p><p>“I didn’t think so?”</p><p>“Didn’t think what?” A new voice asked. Both Maria and Isobel startled. Alex rose an eyebrow at their surprise. “You two okay?”</p><p>Maria and Isobel exchanged a look. By unspoken agreement no one really talked about Michael or Alex to the other. Especially after Alex and Forrest’s fling fizzled out.</p><p>Maria opened her mouth to brush him off gently when Isobel beat her to it. “It’s Michael. We think he’s seeing someone new. But it might not be going well.”</p><p>Alex looked a little taken aback. “What?”</p><p>“He comes in here on Sundays and drinks a lot. Always muttering about being better next time.” She looked to Isobel. “Today he said something about a guy named Jackson?”</p><p>For some inexplicable reason that made Alex relax and roll his eyes. “He’s fine.”</p><p>Isobel raised an eyebrow. “He’s a mess. His moping is getting a little ridiculous. I don’t know how much longer I can let this go on.”</p><p>“11 more weeks,” Alex replied.</p><p>“What?” Maria and Isobel asked in unison.</p><p>Alex rolled his eyes again. “He’s fine,” he repeated.</p><p>Maria opened her mouth to reply but snapped it shut when Michael reappeared on his stool. He still looked like a mess. Behind him Alex looked like he was trying not to laugh.</p><p>Alex dropped a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Better luck next week,” he said solemnly.</p><p>Michael whirled on him. “We almost had them!”</p><p>“Uhuh,” Alex agreed. “But next week you get the Giants.”</p><p>Maria furrowed her brow in confusion but Michael perked right up. “They suck worse than we do!”</p><p>Isobel looked to Maria as if she had any answers. Maria just shook her head.</p><p>“Yup,” Alex agreed. “Until next week. When they’ll probably win.” He kept his voice mild but Maria spotted a gleam in his eyes that spelled only trouble. Michael turned a glare on him.</p><p>“Fuck you.”</p><p>Alex shrugged, unconcerned. “Stop rooting for a crappy team,” he advised.</p><p>“We are not crappy!” Michael defended. “We won the Super Bowl three years ago!”</p><p>“Uhuh,” Alex placated. “And since then, you’ve sucked.”</p><p>Michael looked like he was gearing up for a fight before suddenly deflating. “You don’t even like football.”</p><p>“You like it too much.”</p><p>“Not possible.”</p><p>Alex shrugged. “Eh.”</p><p>Michael rolled his eyes. But he didn’t seem quite so mopey anymore.</p><p>“Come on,” Alex jerked his head. “Buy me dinner and I’ll let you rant about the game.”</p><p>Michael scooped his hat off the table and followed him out the door without so much as a glance back. Maria and Isobel listened to him talk all the way outside before the door slamming shut cut him off.</p><p>“So,” Isobel said, staring at the closed door. “That was informative.”</p><p>“Who knew Michael was a football fan?” Maria asked.</p><p>Isobel scoffed. “Screw that. Since when are they dating??”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. vs Giants (Max is Oblivious)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the Eagles lost to the GIANTS and Michael is despairing (and dramatic)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Max froze at the anguished cry that filtered through the open window. Next to him, Alex didn’t react. His head was bent over the file Max had brought over, studying it intensely.</p><p>“What was that?” Max asked. It had sounded like someone in pain.</p><p>“Michael,” Alex replied absently.</p><p>A loud shout sounded next. Max couldn’t make out the words but it was definitely not good. He took a step towards the door without realizing it.</p><p>“He’s fine,” Alex assured him. Max shot him an incredulous look that Alex completely missed because he still hadn’t looked away from the file. “Here.” He pointed at a sentence. “Do you still have that file I gave Jenna a few weeks ago?” Max nodded. “Check that for something similar. It should be in there.”</p><p>“Oh come the fuck on?!” This time Michael’s shout was clear.</p><p>That got Alex’s attention. He leaned back in his chair and called through the window. “Aren’t you playing the Giants?”</p><p>“Yes!” Michael sounded genuinely anguished.</p><p>“What?” Max asked, thoroughly confused.</p><p>Alex spared him a glance. “The Eagles are playing.”</p><p>Max furrowed his brow. “Since when does Michael care about football?”</p><p>Alex raised his eyebrows in surprise but didn’t bother to answer. Inside, Michael yelled and something broke. “Leave my house alone!”</p><p>“Sorry!” Michael yelled back immediately.</p><p>“I’m so confused,” Max muttered.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. vs Bengals (Alex has a secret)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>same day as the previous chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael shuffled into the bar with his head hung low. It hadn’t been a good day. His Eagles had lost to the- Michael couldn’t even think it.</p><p>He’d been in a bad mood ever since and he hadn’t felt like inflicting himself on Maria’s mercy so he’d headed across town to the only sports bar in town. Michael usually kept his distance, preferring to drink at the Pony and watch his games in the comfort of his own (or Alex’s) home, but they had good wings and he hadn’t really wanted to make lunch at home. Especially since Alex had ditched him for his weekly bro-date with Kyle.</p><p>Michael was trying not to be bitter over it. Really he was.</p><p>He was only halfway to the bar when he heard a laugh and froze in his tracks.</p><p>“Oh come on,” he heard a mutter. It was quiet, nearly inaudible in the loud bar, but Michael would know Alex’s voice anywhere. He turned slowly on his heel, his eyes scanning the crowd until he spotted Alex and Kyle sitting at a table, their attention fixed on the screens closest to them. Kyle cursed and shook his head as Alex laughed at him.</p><p>Michael found himself next to their table without even deciding to move. “<em>What</em>?” He greeted. Kyle looked up and said something, presumably hello, but Michael’s attention was fixed on Alex’s frozen form. He had the beer halfway to his mouth and looked a little bit like he was trying to will Michael away.</p><p>Michael pulled out an extra chair and sat down heavily. “Alex?”</p><p>Kyle looked between them but neither so much as glanced his way.</p><p>Alex slowly lowered the bottle. “I can explain.” Michael’s eyes widened beseechingly and Alex winced slightly. “Kyle’s a Raiders fan,” he confessed, like Michael hadn’t been the one to tell him that in the middle of a rant against everything that was Kyle Valenti. “He doesn’t get the games at his house so he watches him here. On Sundays. When we hang out.”</p><p>Michael narrowed his eyes. “So you’ll watch football with Valenti,” he accused. “But not me.”</p><p>Alex winced then straightened his shoulders. “I am having lunch with Kyle while he watches football.” But his eyes tracked over Michael’s shoulder in the direction of the TV’s.</p><p>Michael scoffed. “I can’t believe you.”</p><p>“Do you want to join us?” Kyle offered. Michael and Alex ignored him.</p><p>“The <em>Raiders</em> Alex? <em>Really</em>?”</p><p>Alex shrugged but didn’t offer anything in his defense. His eyes were still flicking between Michael and the TV behind him. Michael sighed heavily and turned in his seat. Just because Alex still didn’t support the Eagles didn’t mean he wouldn’t support Alex watching football at all. Even if it was the Raiders. Relationships were all about compromise, after all.</p><p>Except when Michael turned around the team on the screen was wearing a lot more yellow than silver. Michael blinked to make sure he was seeing things right. The Raiders were on the screen on the right, Kyle’s side, but the screen behind Michael, the one Alex’s eyes kept going to, was showing the Steelers and Bengals. Michael turned back to Alex. “Please tell me you aren’t rooting for the Bengals.”</p><p>A look of disgust crossed Alex’s face briefly and Michael’s shoulders sagged a little. Okay. Pittsburgh then. He could live with this.</p><p>“You know that’s the wrong Pennsylvania team right?”</p><p>“Says you,” Alex shot back immediately. “We beat you this year.”</p><p>Michael raised an eyebrow. “We, huh?”</p><p>Alex shrugged, suddenly unrepentant. “At least my team doesn’t suck.”</p><p>Michael sucked in a sharp inhale. “Low blow, Manes.”</p><p>Alex smirked as he lifted his beer to his lips.</p><p>“I’m telling Patrick,” Michael warned.</p><p>“Okay. You two can commiserate over losing to the Giants.”</p><p>“Wow,” Michael said slowly. “So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”</p><p>“You’re the one who’s been bugging me to be a fan,” Alex reminded him.</p><p>“Of the Eagles!” Michael exclaimed. “And don’t think I’ve forgotten that you only started watching because of Valenti. Ten years, Alex. Patrick and I have been trying to get you to watch with us for <em>ten years</em>.”</p><p>Alex shoved the basket of wings over to him. “Let it go and root for my team, Guerin.”</p><p>Michael glared at him for a moment longer before giving in and snagging a wing. “This isn’t the end of this,” he warned.</p><p>“Of course it isn’t.” Alex looked at him fondly before ignoring him in favor of the game.</p><p>“You two are weird,” Kyle told them.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. vs Ravens (Alex is an addict)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>this takes place in a world where covid doesn't exist and the Steelers game actually took place on Thanksgiving</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael had only been a little annoyed when Max announced he wanted to get everyone together for Thanksgiving. Ever since Liz returned, he had been big on the group bonding. Michael didn’t begrudge him for it, he was even generally in favor of it. The only issue with Thanksgiving was that Max didn’t have a TV anywhere convenient for watching football while they ate and hung around. He tried to voice this issue only once and got glared into submission by Isobel. Apparently, having recognized that Max knew nothing about hosting large groups of people and Liz hadn’t really celebrated the holiday in near a decade, Isobel had taken over hosting duties and was merely using Max’s house as a location. So Michael had decided to keep his mouth shut and instead be thankful that the timing of <strike>Isobel’s </strike>Max’s dinner meant he would only miss the last game.</p><p>He somehow failed to include the previous weekend’s revelations into his plans. Even worse, it took almost half an hour before he realized it.</p><p>It was only when Alex got up from the table for the third time on a flimsy excuse that Michael decided to see what was going on.</p><p>“Okay,” he started, following him into the kitchen. “What’s-” Alex was fishing his phone out of his pocket and glancing furtively over Michael’s shoulder. Michael stared as he tapped the screen a couple of times before sound started playing. It sounded like-</p><p>“<em>Alex</em>,” he wondered, the light dawning. The game Michael hadn’t care about missing was the Steelers-Ravens. Alex barely glanced at him. “Are you sneaking away from the table to watch football?”</p><p>Alex glared at him. “I blame you.”</p><p>Michael held his hands up. “Eagles aren’t playing until Monday. If you’d had any sense in teams, you wouldn’t have this problem.” He only got another glare for his troubles. Michael rolled his eyes and sidled up next to Alex, wrapping his arms around his waist and hooking his chin over his shoulder to stare at the small screen. “How are they doing?”</p><p>“I missed a touchdown,” Alex pouted. Michael fished out his own phone and checked the game log. </p><p>“Ooh, pick six too,” he told Alex. Alex smiled. </p><p>Footsteps sounded close to the door and Alex quickly switched off his phone. A moment later, Isobel ducked her head through the doorway. “Oy, lovebirds. Come back to the table. I slaved over this meal, you <em>will</em> enjoy it.”</p><p>Alex tucked his phone away and stepped out of Michael’s grasp. “Isobel, I promise you, if I thought for a second that you’d slaved over it, I would have eaten on the way.”</p><p>She glared at him as Michael stifled a laugh. “Fine. I spent good money on this meal, so go eat it.”</p><p>“Yes, ma’am,” Alex agreed. He pulled Michael after him and led the way back to the table.</p><p>Less than fifteen minutes later, Alex excused himself to the restroom. He came back with a little furrow in his brow. Michael raised an eyebrow in question as he sat down. “They missed the field goal.” Michael stifled his smile at seeing him so worked up about football and squeezed his knee gently in comfort.</p><p>The next time Alex tried to get up, Isobel glared at him and Maria asked if he was okay. He slowly lowered himself back into his seat and assured Maria he was fine. Michael watched his hand twitch towards his pocket and stood up instead. He didn’t even bother making an excuse as he ducked around a corner to check the score.</p><p>He was back at the table in less than a minute with no fanfare, the conversations having continued just fine without him. “Halftime, score’s still the same,” he leaned over and whispered in Alex’s ear. Alex smiled in thanks before pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his jaw and asking, “any chance we can get out of here early to watch the end of it at home?”</p><p>Michael’s eyes widened. “I love you.” </p><p>(They got home in time to watch the fourth quarter. It only took two more excuses from the table and a furtive back and forth before Isobel got fed up and tried and failed to guilt trip them.</p><p>“<em>Clearly</em> you two have better things to do than spend time with us today,” she glared at them. Behind her, most of their friends looked more concerned than worried. With the notable exception of Kyle who had figured out what was going on sometime after halftime.</p><p>“We do actually,” Alex replied immediately. “Thank you for dinner, Isobel. And thank you Max and Liz for hosting. Happy Thanksgiving. Bye.”</p><p>Michael had only been able to laugh and wave as Alex dragged him out the door.)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. vs Packers (Michael gets a surprise)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>guess who decided to show up</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Where are we going?” Kyle peered out the window like it offered new clues. </p><p>“Picking up a friend,” Alex replied, for the third time.</p><p>Kyle rolled his eyes. “All of our friends are at your house supporting your boyfriend’s bad habits.” </p><p>“There’s nothing wrong with supporting your friends,” Alex responded mildly. He took the next right turn and pulled into the bus station. A moment later, the back door opened and closed and he pulled away. “I suffer through Raiders games every week to support you,” Alex reminded him. Kyle turned around in his seat to stare at the back row before raising an eyebrow at Alex in question. Alex ignored him. Kyle didn’t actually ask any questions so Alex didn’t give him any answers as he drove back to his house. He’d gone to the bar with Kyle for the early games but had promised to join everyone else at his house to watch the Eagles game with Michael. The game had started ten minutes ago and Alex had already gotten six texts from Michael worried that he’d gotten stuck in a ditch somewhere. Because obviously missing kick off was a cardinal sin.</p><p>At the house, cars were parked along the road and Alex pulled around them into his parking space. The car emptied silently and they trudged into the house, the sounds of the TV and Michael’s yelling greeting them instantly. </p><p>“Go! Go! Go!” Michael chanted. He was standing in front of the couch, his jersey firmly in place, his eyes glued to the screen. Alex felt his lips turn up at the sight. He detoured to the kitchen as Michael groaned out loud. On the screen, there was a penalty flag.</p><p>“Goddammit,” a new voice cursed. Most of the room turned in surprise but Michael’s head whipped around, a smile bursting on his face. “Why can’t we get just one good play?”</p><p>“Patrick!” Michael yelled. He took a large step over the coffee table and the two men met in a big hug. “What the hell are you doing here?”</p><p>Patrick jerked his head in Alex’s direction. “I was trying to come out last week but Alex said to wait until after Thanksgiving.”</p><p>Michael narrowed his eyes at Alex. “You knew about this?”</p><p>“No,” Alex lied shamelessly. “I just happened to swing by the bus station and he just happened to hop in my car and we just happened to show up in time for the game.”</p><p>“Late,” Patrick corrected instantly. “<em>Late</em> for the game.” Alex rolled his eyes. “It’s important, Manes!”</p><p>“Uhuh,” Alex agreed mockingly.</p><p>“Ignore him,” Michael advised. “We left dinner early last week so he could watch the Steelers game.”</p><p>“What?!” Isobel yelled. </p><p>“You ditched us for a <em>football game</em>?” Maria asked.</p><p>“Really, Guerin?” Alex huffed. Michael laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek in apology.</p><p>“You’re shameless, Manes,” Patrick joked. “I approve. But don’t think we’re not gonna talk about your goddawful taste,” he warned.</p><p>“I can’t wait,” Alex groaned. “Didn’t you two complain about me enough yet?”</p><p>“No,” they replied in unison. </p><p>“Pittsburgh, Alex?” Patrick bemoaned. “<em>Really? </em>Philly’s right there!” </p><p>Alex rolled his eyes. “And they suck.” He got two glares for his trouble so he quickly redirected them. “And playing right now.”</p><p>The two spun around to the TV to see that the game had in fact come back from commercial and they quickly forced their way onto the couch, Max and Liz being squished together to make room for Patrick. “This isn’t over!” Patrick warned. </p><p>“We’ll see about that,” Alex mumbled low enough that they couldn’t hear him over the game.</p><p>“A football game, Alex, really?” Isobel hissed at him. “That’s what was so important?” Alex shrugged and she made a noise of disgust. “My brother’s wearing off on you.”</p><p>“Bout time, too,” Alex agreed. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. vs Redskins (Alex is officially a sports fan)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael was struggling to hold in his laughter. Alex had the cutest pout on his face as he glared at the TV screen. “It’s okay,” he rubbed Alex’s back. “Losses happen.”</p>
<p>Alex shifted his glare to Michael. “You’re mocking me.”</p>
<p>Michael shook his head. “Losing sucks.”</p>
<p>“It was the <em>Redskins</em>,” Alex groaned. “They’re awful.”</p>
<p>“And today you were worse,” Michael said without thinking. He really should have expected the smack to his chest. Alex pouted again and Michael couldn’t quite stifle his smile this time. “I’m sorry,” he told him as he pulled him into his arms. Alex was stiff but didn’t pull away. “The Redskins suck,” he agreed. “You’ll do better next week.” </p>
<p>“We better,” Alex humphed. After a moment, he relaxed and let Michael hug him properly. “I don’t like losing.”</p>
<p>“Nobody likes losing.”</p>
<p>“But you could try to manage it with a little bit of grace,” Patrick piped up from the other end of the couch. Alex grabbed the pillow behind Michael and threw it behind him without looking, somehow smacking Patrick in the face as he looked at his phone. </p>
<p>“Shut up. It’s not like the Eagles beat them either,” Alex reminded him.</p>
<p>“Shut up,” Michael and Patrick snapped back. </p>
<p>Alex grinned and Michael felt his own lips turn up in response. He pressed a quick kiss to Alex’s temple since he couldn’t reach his lips. “You’re not really a fan until you suffer humiliating defeats,” he told him. “So congrats, Manes, you’re officially a football fan.”</p>
<p>“This sucks,” Alex did not whine.</p>
<p>“Defeat breeds character,” Patrick intoned. Michael directed another pillow into Alex’s hands and he launched it at Patrick. This time, Patrick dodged the projectile with a laugh. “Welcome to the club.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i can't believe they lost to the fucking skins. i'll never live this down</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. vs Redskins (Michael and Patrick are betrayed)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this one was actually requested!! (me: you all like it! you really really like it! lol)</p><p>Would a request for an irate Patrick and Michael after idk what the hell that loss was all about, pulling the quarterback out of the game, shady shady shit pulled by the the Eagles coach yesterday, be out of the question?</p><p>With love,</p><p>💙❤️ a NY Giants fan ❤️💙</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
  <p>Alex looked between Michael, the TV, and where Patrick’s face filled the laptop screen. “You two okay?” He asked hesitantly. Neither had spoken in a few minutes.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Michael turned towards him slowly. “He benched Hurts.” It had been almost ten minutes and Michael still sounded like he couldn’t believe it. “We could win this thing and he <em>benched Hurts</em>!” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“For some nobody third stringer!” Patrick added from the computer. “What the hell is wrong with him! Hurts doesn’t look hurt at all.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“And the first thing this joker does is throw a pick! And they’re leaving him in the ga- WHAT THE FUCK?!” Michael lept to his feet and shouted at the TV. Alex glanced over at the latpop to see Patrick disappear from sight. “Get him off the damn field!” He heard him shout.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Alex glanced at the screen around Michael’s moving body in time to see Washington recover a fumble. “Was that the back up?” He asked. Honestly, he could figure out it was from their reaction even before the TV helpfully replayed it but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t trying to stir them up a bit more.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“yES!” Both Michael and Patrick replied. “Stupid fucking third stringer who has no business playing in this game,” Michael muttered after.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Didn’t you guys already miss the playoffs?” Alex asked. “This game doesn’t mean anything anymore.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It’s about the principle of the thing Alex!” Patrick scolded. “You play to win even when it doesn’t mean anything. You don’t HAND your rivals the division championship! You make them work for it!”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Michael put his hands on his hips and shook his head, unable to really look away from the screen for long. “They didn’t even let Wentz dress. If they were so stuck on Hurts not playing the whole game they should’ve let Wentz come in in the second half. But noooo.”</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Washington kicked a field goal and Michael hid his face in his hands. Patrick groaned loudly. “At least now they’ll put Hurts back in. They can’t-” He stopped and both Michael and Alex looked at him but he wasn’t looking at them, his eyes pointed above the camera. In unison both looked to their own TV in time to see Sudfield jog back onto the field.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Michael stared in shock. Alex tried to smother a laugh and ended up snorting. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“What the fu-!”</p>
</div>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. vs Browns (Alex experiences the utter despair of being a sports fan)</h2></a>
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  <p>Michael’s phone buzzed and he almost didn’t answer it, too preoccupied with Alex’s stock still form hunched over next to him. When it buzzed again, he pulled it out to silence it. Patrick’s name flashed briefly on the screen and he swiped it open to look at the messages.</p>
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  <p>
    <em>From Patrick</em>
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  <p>Holy shit</p>
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  <p>LOL wtf?</p>
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  <p>...is Alex okay???</p>
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  <p>Michael didn’t bother replying and instead stuffed the phone back in his pocket and gave Alex his full attention. </p>
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  <p>“Alex,” he said gently. Alex didn’t so much as blink, his eyes fixed straight ahead. Michael followed his gaze briefly and winced as his phone buzzed again. “Alex.”</p>
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  <p>Alex blinked slowly and turned his head to look at him. “I don’t think I like this anymore.” Michael could only nod in understanding. He’d been there before....well. Not exactly. Right now, Alex was in uncharted territory. “<em>How?!” </em>He pleaded. “How did this happen?”</p>
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  <p>Michael didn’t have an answer for him. Instead, he moved over to sit on the coffee table before carefully pulling Alex’s left foot into his lap and tugging his sock off gently, trying not to disturb him. Michael had just gotten him the socks for Christmas but now was not the time for it. When Alex’s foot was bare, he put it down and unwrapped the fluffy scarf around Alex’s neck and placed it on top of the now-forgotten sock. The whole time, Alex didn’t even look at him, his eyes fixed behind his head. When he was done, Michael grabbed the remote and turned the TV off. </p>
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  <p>Alex made a noise of protest but Michael ignored it. “Come on,” he urged, standing up. Alex followed, his eyes vacant.</p>
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  <p>“I don’t understand what went wrong,” he said weakly. </p>
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  <p>“Everything,” Michael couldn’t help but answer honestly. He got a glare for his troubles. “But right now, we’re going to get in the truck and go for a drive and forget all about it.”</p>
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  <p>“It’s not over yet,” Alex protested.</p>
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  <p>It took everything in him not to snort. “Yes it is.” Michael gently nudged Alex out the door, ignoring his lingering looks at the black TV screen and ignoring his own looks at the sad pile of black and yellow on the couch. </p>
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  <p>Alex didn’t say anything else as he got into the truck. When Michael got in the other side and started it up, the radio sputtered to life with a “-and Roethlisberger throws ANOTHER interception!” </p>
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  <p>Michael shut if off immediately. </p>
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  <p>“Hey,” he said gently when Alex looked like he was going to be sick. “At least it’s over.”</p>
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  <p>Alex shot him a weak glare. “It’s still the first quarter.”</p>
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  <p>Michael winced. “Yes. But the season’s over. So no more suffering until August! Silver lining.”</p>
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  <p>“I need a new team.”</p>
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  <p>Michael laughed as he put the truck in drive and left the house and the TV and the game behind them. “It doesn’t work that way. Sorry.”</p>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>End of the Road folks! With both the Eagles and the Steelers done for the season so ends the football fic madness.</p>
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